Good Intentions
by Anti-Mattering
Summary: An old friend returns after a long journey.


"Now just hold still," he told the little girl quaking in the chair. It was pretty clear she didn't like the idea of shots very much. With a chuckle, he stuck out his tongue and crossed his eyes to try and make her laugh, poking her in the arm with the needle while she was distracted. "All done. Didn't hurt at all, did it?"

He gave her a pat on the head before sending her on her way. She waved at him as her mother quickly pulled her along out of the ramshackle clinic, very obviously disturbed by the fact an Ishvalan had been caring for her child for the last few minutes. Blatant racism aside, he considered it somewhat of an improvement given the number of people who'd outright refused his treatment in the past. There seemed to be some hope in the younger generation, too.

There wasn't much time to ruminate, though, as it was sure to be another busy day. A military train derailed on its way to the Holy Land a few days ago – no indication of foul play so far, just an unfortunate accident. The doctors here had more work than they were able to deal with, but they were a determined group who didn't want to see anyone they could have helped die without giving it their all.

He could almost laugh at the absurdity of it all. Dodging past a nurse coming from the opposite end of the cramped hallway, he remembered being told that he fought against Amestris during the civil war. Now here he was treating those same people's injuries as they headed towards his homeland once again. Hard to tell whether this was the doing of Ishvala or just a strange coincidence.

"Heard the general himself is coming to see us," one of the soldiers from the crash told him as he arrived to examine his leg.

"Is that so?" he replied while changing bandages. Compared to others who had been on the train, his injuries were fairly minimal. A broken arm and a nasty gash across his shin were the only real concerns.

"Might be coming to give you doctors some medals for taking care of us. You used to be in the military, too, didn't you?"

He nodded. "A long time ago." That's what the history he dug up about himself said, at least.

"Must have been one hell of a medic. Thanks." The Amestrian saluted him from the bed he was sat in, the doctor giving a small smile and halfhearted salute in return before leaving the room. In truth, he couldn't really remember that time in his life. It was even fuzzier than the memories of fighting against the military.

As he entered the lobby to try and track down a nurse, he spotted a dark haired man in a highly decorated uniform flanked by a blonde woman writing notes. Probably the general they were talking about earlier. Though he didn't pay the officer much mind, the man was apparently very interested in him.

"Excuse me, doctor," he said, his eyes going wide as the man turned towards him. "I'm sorry to ask this, but are you...related to a man named Heathcliff?"

This was an odd turn of events. "That's my name, actually. Heathcliff Erbe. Is there something you needed, sir?" Why would a random officer in the military know his name like that? Did he do something in his former life to distinguish himself to one of them?

For a moment, they just stood in silence, the general's assistant having gone off to take over the job of checking with the injured now that he'd occupied himself with some personal matters. "It can't be," he said in awe.

"I think I understand now," the doctor said with a sigh. "We must have known each other in the past. I'm sorry, but I don't remember you." Instinctively, he touched the ugly scar on the right side of his head, scratching at his temple to try and disguise the motion.

"You don't remember?" he asked dumbfounded. "Roy Mustang. We were in basic training together." He hesitated for a moment before continuing. "We met on the battlefield after you left to fight for Ishval. I thought you'd died."

Heathcliff tapped his chin, digesting the information he'd just been told. "Is that so?" He wasn't sure how to respond to that. How could he, even? There was a member of the military standing in front of him telling him they used to be friends, but also that they'd fought against each other in the war.

"It sounds like things were complicated between us near the end," he said finally.

"That would be putting it lightly," the general sighed. "I'm not sure what to say anymore. I can't really apologize for what I've done to you or the people of Ishval, and anything I'd try to say would just sound like an excuse."

Heathcliff merely shook his head. "There's no need for any of that. I won't pretend like I've forgiven the Amestrians for what they've done to my people. In fact, I still hate the military most of all. But the thing about not having a past is you learn to give people a second chance. You're right that whatever you do won't change what happened during the war, but the fact you and the government are finally taking responsibility isn't for nothing."

"I'm glad you feel that way," he said with a smile. "If you want to join the rebuilding effort, just say the word. We could always use an extra voice and another doctor."

"I'll have to decline that offer," he responded a bit reluctantly. "I'm one of the only doctors in this town. If I left, they probably couldn't manage. Then Jefferson would be on his own most of the time, and he's..." As if on queue, a red haired doctor came stumbling out of a room dropping a tray of instruments, hurrying to pick them up and rush to care for more patients.

Mustang chuckled. "Seems capable enough to me. I've been wondering, though, how did you end up here? This place is barely on the map."

"Like I said, I don't remember very much of my past. Even a short time after I first woke up isn't very clear." He tapped his chin once more. "I was treated by a couple Amestrian doctors named Rockbell, and I remember being smuggled out of Ishval once my condition stabilized. After that, I drifted from place to place before finding my way here and studying medicine under the former head physician of this clinic." His teacher had since passed on, though he was still grateful for the opportunity she gave him despite the country's prejudice making it an easier decision to simply turn him away.

Mustang perked up at the mention of that name. "You said Rockbell, right?"

Heathcliff nodded. "Did you know them? What happened to them after the war?"

"Not personally," he answered sadly. "They were killed near the end of the war, unfortunately. A former subordinate of mine is engaged to their daughter last I heard."

"That's a damn shame," he said. He owed his life to those two doctors. They risked their lives and put aside any loyalty to Amestris for the sake of treating any and all wounded on the battlefield. It was their actions that inspired him to want to study medicine in the first place.

Thinking hard, he felt like he vaguely remembered mention of a Rockbell child. Maybe a conversation between the two or a picture. Still, he was glad to hear she'd come out of everything finding some kind of happiness.

"Well, I'll get out of your hair," Mustang said with a nod. "We're both busy men, after all. There should be a transport here in a few days to take our injured to Eastern Command. They sent me here to assess the situation before heading back to Ishval."

"I'll tell the staff to leave you with an invoice for the supplies we used on your way out," he said with an almost mischievous smile. No one would complain if that bill was a bit exaggerated, after all.

Mustang saluted with a sigh. "I'm sure you will." He smiled before turning to look for his assistant. "It was good to see you again, Heathcliff." Though he didn't return the gesture – it felt unnatural at this point to try and pantomime being a soldier – the sentiment was mutual. Memories or not, it was a relief to know this was the kind of person Amestris had sent to try to make amends.

* * *

Just watched the anime again all the way through and felt like doing stuff related to Ishval. As well as the series handles the ramifications of genocide and giving us a raw look at the kind of environment that's born out of, I always felt like they could have done more (especially since the anime only gave it a single episode).

One thing I wish they'd done was really humanize the Ishvalan people, since the flashbacks are only ever told from the perspective of Hawkeye and other military personnel. That makes sense from a narrative perspective as these would be stories related to Edward by people who never got to know anyone they were killing, but it would have been emotionally a lot stronger and more visceral (plus more respectful to the real life victims it was based on) to have more than a tangential "these are other people being slaughtered" connection by letting us get to know the actual people who were being killed.

That's kind of why I was really enamored with Heathcliff when I saw that OVA. It adds that humanizing element by letting us get to know someone on the other side besides Scar (who we only ever knew as Scar outside of a few brief moments in flashback). Plus, it makes Mustang's story a lot deeper by giving him a personal connection with someone he had to kill and even gives us a much darker look at the kind of person Hughes was than we ever got to see in anything else.

I got this idea a while ago when I saw a post mention this (some confession blog, I think), so I ran with it. If you can't guess, this is a few years after the end of the series but Ishval's still getting back on its feet with Mustang in charge.

Speaking of helping people rebuild, the Caribbean is kind of being annihilated by four hurricanes right now. If you can, please donate to a good charity because they're really going to need the help. I'm putting one at the bottom that seems pretty good, and I also ask that people avoid the Red Cross as a favor to me since they're kind of a shitty organization.

Nothing left to say on my part. Thanks for reading. Remember to not be a war criminal today (it's actually surprisingly easy if you just don't join the military).

(Can't link it on here so, just visit the National VOAD website.)


End file.
